


Sugar Plum Dreams

by Ghostoftreebeard



Category: Rogue One - Fandom
Genre: Christmas, F/M, Mutual Pining, Sexy Hand Touching, Vaguely Nutcracker AU, Very light smut, vaguely Victorian era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:35:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22025662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ghostoftreebeard/pseuds/Ghostoftreebeard
Summary: Hello, firefeufuego2!  I'm your Secret Santa!Your prompt was "anything to do with touch starvation" and then you said that you liked historical AU's so my brain went to a Victorian era kind of place.  Because of the season, I took some nods from the Nutcracker tradition/story (a quirky godfather and his beloved goddaughter, fantastical dreams, a Christmas Eve party).I hope that you enjoy it!  Happy holidays!
Relationships: Cassian Andor/Jyn Erso
Comments: 6
Kudos: 58
Collections: The RebelCaptain Network Secret Santa Exchange





	Sugar Plum Dreams

**Author's Note:**

  * For [firefeufuego](https://archiveofourown.org/users/firefeufuego/gifts).



> Hello, firefeufuego2! I'm your Secret Santa! 
> 
> Your prompt was "anything to do with touch starvation" and then you said that you liked historical AU's so my brain went to a Victorian era kind of place. Because of the season, I took some nods from the Nutcracker tradition/story (a quirky godfather and his beloved goddaughter, fantastical dreams, a Christmas Eve party).
> 
> I hope that you enjoy it! Happy holidays!

How is it that I should end up in such a strange and wonderful place? A common thought that often crossed his mind since the day he had been plucked from the grimy existence and general obscurity of the orphanage and thrust into the whimsical employ of a Mr. Saw Gerrera. What Cassian Andor remembered from those first days was both vivid and fuzzy. He remembered his first impression of Mr. Gerrera as a man who even then appeared old, with a disjointed walk and clothes that, although, they appeared fine-all silks and corduroy and brocade-had a distinct disheveledness about them. "My name is Mister Saw Gerrera," his voice was raspy but loud even in the space of the carriage that carried Cassian to his unknown new life," I am a man of many things. A creator, if you will, and I am in great need of an apprentice." 

He remembered that at six years old, the grand house that his patron lived in was the largest abode he had ever seen with four, high-ceilinged stories and a massive foyer complete with black and white checkered floor and crystal, cob-web festooned chandelier. 

Cassian remembered the never ending warmth of the fireplace in his quarters, a place singularly his own, and plum cakes with sugared almonds that the household cook would sneak him fresh from the oven.

He remembered following Mr. Gerrera down the street and around the corner to his workshop and the wonder exploding in his chest upon first entering. Atop two long, wooden work tables with legs carved with woodland creatures, sat an organized chaos of gold gears, glass eyeballs of every size and color, pliers, hammers, tongs, ink quills, and scattered parchment. The walls were covered floor to ceiling with open cupboards with even more tools, cloth, springs, and supplies. On the intricately carved, massive mantle over the roaring fire, sat an assortment of clocks; clocks as large as Cassian's torso topped by owls with feathers of thinly chiseled wood, clocks as small as his palm with miniature pinecones carved into the sides, all rhythmically ticking and occasionally ringing the time with a multitude of chirps or loud gongs.

Mr. Saw Gerrera was a clockmaker and a fixer of many things but his real talent was his toymaking. Cassian could swear that the old man had to have used magic to create the realistic movement of dolls or the fluttering of wings of a mechanical bird. In the coming years, he came to learn that Gerrera's techniques had mostly to do with a subtle cleverness of his hands and the technical prowess of his craft. Cassian was convinced that this was indeed a magic all its own.

By now at twenty, Cassian had become an expert engineer in his own right and had taken on more responsibility as Gerrera's health began to decline further. His specific talent was in larger, human-sized robotics, to the thrill of his teacher. He helped him create life-sized dolls that jumped and twirled as if they were real ballerinas, soldiers that would march in perfect form, and even a giant rat king, wound up by an elaborate gold key in its furry back. These he usually created for the Erso family's annual opulent Christmas party, not just a fantastical entertainment but also elaborate gifts to delight Saw's beloved godchild, Jyn Erso. 

Cassian didn't know when his interest in the youngest member of the Erso household became less of the curious observation of a frequent child visitor to the shop and more of a deeply frustrating and somewhat debilitating crush. He kept it to himself, silently brooding in the background during visits, dinners, and parties but recently-well, recently, she'd given signs that perhaps she felt the same. Green-eyed stares that lasted too long for politeness, her gloved fingers brushing up against his, feather-light, haunting, and lasting a bit too long for polite company. Or maybe he had just imagined it. 

……….

"And then I told my father that a war with the Eastern countries would be beneficial to a person of my standing…" Jyn Erso fought the urge to yawn as Orson Krennic, son of Lord Krennic, Duke of some ancient municipality that she had long forgotten, droned on. She traced the piping that lined her brocade corseted gown in an effort to school her face into a neutral expression.

"….that's why I'm an Officer now. I’ll never actually see the front lines of combat. It's a great situation, don't you think, Miss Erso?" Krennic puffed his black-uniformed chest out as he looked down his nose at her.

Jyn did not bother to look at him, choosing to continue glancing boredly around her parents' elegant ballroom, "Why bother joining the army at all if you're not actually going to fight?"

Krennic puffed his chest up further with a scoff, "Not fight?! The mastery with which I will lead my troops is the heart of the battle! It will be a stunning achievement!"

"You say lead but," Jyn finally met his eye, "from behind?"

Krennic was at a loss for words, his face turning a garish shade of crimson and so Jyn took her leave with a swift turn, the large girth of her skirts violently swishing at his shins, and a pleased smirk on her face.

According to her father, he was the pinnacle choice of her potential suitors acceptable in high society. She nodded to her father, hosting their guests in his green velvet dressing coat, across the ballroom as she made her way to the empty front hall. She knew that he loved her too much to ever force her into a marriage with that asshole but she had to play the game for a bit anyway. At least that's what her mother had told her and she knew that her father was wrapped tightly around Lyra's pinky finger.

Jyn smiled at the thought as she came to rest on the tufted bench seat beneath the giant grandfather clock in the hall, the carved owl's glowing eyes casting a subtle amber glow in the dim candlelight. Jyn enjoyed her family's annual Christmas Eve party but sometimes the mix of family, friends, and the scattered members of high society that she was forced to interact with on some level of common decency gave her the need for a break.

She could sense a presence lurking in the shadows. Cassian. Her cheeks lifted, a slight heat beginning to rise to them. "I know you're there," she called out.

There was silence for a second and then footsteps clicking closer on the marble tile before stopping just to her right. When she looked up, her heart stuttered as she was not expecting to see such a pointed gaze from his dark eyes. Cassian could be described as furtive, quiet, and frustratingly unreadable. This was the most direct he'd ever been in their interactions and she was nearly taken off guard. "Miss Erso," he greeted her, his voice lower than it used to be. Her insides felt mixed up and she fought to keep down the flush rising to her cheeks.

"Mr. Andor," she nodded back, rising from her perch without breaking eye contact.

He remained staring, not saying a word nor making a move to leave. She raised her eyebrows in frustration because he was so goddamn stoic and he made her feel dizzy and she somehow felt more out of control than she had before she left the ballroom. When the discomforted silence became too much, she finally broke his gaze, picked up her skirt, and made to move around him but felt him lightly touch her silk-gloved wrist. "Wait," his voice was rushed but quiet.

She immediately halted, her curled hair bouncing against her bare back and shoulders. She turned and watched as his hand disappeared into the wool of his dressing coat, a small maroon velvet bag appearing upon its extraction. "I made something for you," his voice was soft, barely a whisper, but his face was so close to the side of her own that she felt his breath send chills down her neck.

She looked down to see him slip something out of the bag into his palm as he offered it to her. She flexed her own hand, and before reaching to accept the gift, slipped the long glove down her elbow and fingertips. She extended her naked palm and it was only a brief hesitation before she felt his finger tips brush the sensitive skin there, dropping a light weight on its center, before taking their time moving away towards her fingers, his thumb grazing her wrist before pulling away, leaving the ghost of his touch in its wake. Jyn was on fire. Years of silence and glances, a strength of feeling on her part (and now she suspected his as well) growing in the last year. And now this, the first touch of bare skin.

When she came back to herself, she focused on the item in her palm. It was a small bird, the size of a walnut, but the intricacy of the scarlet feathers and the golden fire that they left in their wake as they moved up and down, up and down, was spellbinding. A phoenix, flying through the air as if by magic, was his first gift to her.

....................

Chime. Chime. Chime.

The clock's idiosyncratic din seemed muffled but clearer as Jyn arose to consciousness. Her eyes fluttered open and as the haze grew clearer, she felt her heart stop. The glowing eyes of the owl atop the familiar grandfather clock seemed monstrous and far away as they continued their constant echoing in the main hall. Jyn did not remember falling asleep upon the tufted bench in the foyer, but here she was, her hand brushing the plush velvet. She looked down at her night shift, the fine muslin seemed thinner than she remembered and hung precariously off of one shoulder. As she looked to the floor, she realized that something was terribly wrong. Instead of black and white squares each extending just past her small feet, enormous squares, each larger than two of her entire length, stretched out before her. She abruptly looked toward the Christmas tree to her left, and to her horror, its evergreen bows and tapered candles had become taller than she could crane her neck to see. She caught her reflection in one of the ornaments, now metallic orbs hovering menacingly above her head, and saw her wild hair, now free from its normal sleeping braid. It appeared that she (and the bench) had shrunk and were now mouse sized. How strange.

A crash from where the claw-footed umbrella stand should be drew her from the bench, her silk slippered feet padding quietly across the tile floor. Movement caused her to dive behind the giant golden gnarled claw of the stand, its talons clutching a midnight blue glass ball.

Ahead (and also diminished in size) was Orson Krennic dressed in a very red, very pressed soldiers uniform, stylized almost like that on the toy soldier her godfather had made her when she was twelve. He had a tasseled, sabre lifted above his head, the burnt orange glow of the ever present owl eyes reflecting off the blade. Jyn's heart panicked in her chest as her eyes followed to its intended target. Cassian Andor was kneeling on the floor, hands behind him, held down by two faceless cronies of Krennic. Cassian's face was defiant even in apparent defeat, the quiet handsomeness that she found so enticing in the daylight set alight by the fire in his dark eyes.

Jyn moved silently from behind the stand, slipping a shoe off as she prowled like a cat towards Krennic's back. He sensed her only just before her shoe hit its intended target, a startled look and a widened eye as the solid sole smacked his cheek.

Almost immediately, he and his two associates vanished, not even an inkling that they had been there at all, and she found herself holding out her hand. Cassian placed his warm palm in hers, his fingers skimming lightly before accepting her assistance and lifting up. Jyn immediately felt the warmth that accompanied his light and infrequent touches, spreading up to redden her cheeks and down to ignite below her stomach. This time he didn't pull away. His hands continued their journey grazing a path up her lightly clothed arm. One came to rest firmly at her waist, pulling her flush with him. The other framed the naked side of her neck and shoulder, his thumb brushing along her jawline. A breath escaped her lips as he brought his nose to run along her cheek and she noticed that she could see it floating in the air like smoke. She vaguely registered glittering snowflakes falling around them, pillowing softly on the ground, but she felt the opposite of cold and she closed her eyes as Cassian's lips met her own. The tufted bench reappeared and she pulled him to it as his tongue entered her mouth and his rough hand pushed up the hem of her shift, leaving fire across her thigh.

Chime. Chime. Chime.

Jyn sat up to find herself in her canopied feather bed. A thick sheen of sweat had formed on her body and her night shift and now frizzy braid were now clinging to her skin. "Goddamnit!" her voice was tense and breathy as she fell back to her pillow with a groan.

Two years. Two years of furtive glances and infrequent but smoldering touches (just of hands and fingertips, the last time he had pulled at her lip with his thumb briefly. She hadn't slept for a week after that) and oddly specific yet surreal sex dreams and Jyn was about to explode. The Christmas party was only two days away and even that seemed an inexorable amount of time to be away from the fleeting touch of Cassian Andor.

She opened her nightstand drawer and took out the phoenix and last year's gift (a glittering fish with rainbow scales that appeared to swim across the surface of her palm) that he had made for her. She turned them in her palms, the muted light of dawn glimmering softly on them, as she assessed her situation. She mused that she had never been one to be afraid of taking a situation into her own hands. She bit her lip and played with the lace of her neckline as she made a plan. Maybe it was time to pay her godfather's workshop a surprise visit.

…………………….

Cassian held the spindle tool in one hand, a small hot flame in the other, as he worked on the world's smallest mechanical beetle. It was a present from an old lord to his lady, a hair comb of turquoise scarabs that flew around, glittering wisps around silver inlaid tines. Saw had left a little while ago, taking his newer apprentice, Bodhi with him. Cassian didn't mind the silence. One last touch and then this would be ready for its commissioner to pick up and then he could finish Jyn's present. It wasn't that he didn't mind having Bodhi around, he was outwardly congenial if a bit anxious which manifested in him talking all of the time. Cassian was generally more of a silent worker but he found that he didn't mind Bodhi's constant mutterings. Jyn's present, however, was his secret and working on it around others did not feel right, his focus pulled elsewhere. Just thinking about Jyn made him warm too much, the tips of his ears burning.

He pulled back to examine the blue-green tiny beetles as they migrated around the comb. Satisfied, he stood up from his bench and went through the door to the back room to find a papered gift box, the final finish for its new owner. He was affixing the top when he heard the bell over the front door, signaling a customer had just walked in. "I'll be right with you!" he called to the front room and was met with silence.

"How can I help-" he started as he walked into the room but was rendered mute by who he found there.

Jyn Erso stood before the front bench, her fingers lazily drawing patterns on the knotted wood. She wore a heavy plum cloak, the hood still atop her styled hair, but he could see the low neckline of her dress underneath the embroidered clasps. He quickly averted his eyes to her face, his body burning and not from the roaring fireplace behind him, but that too was unhelpful to his situation because her plump lips were quirked up slightly and her eyes were alight with mischief. "Uh, Saw's not here. He-" Cassian cleared his throat but it still came out wrong, "He should be back in a little-"

"I'm not here to see Saw," she interrupted him. Looking around and past him into the back room, before she inquired, "Is anyone else here?"

Cassian could only shake his head softly, his heart racing faster as her smile lifted further before she turned back to the front door. Was she leaving? His brain panicked because although her presence made him so nervous, the thought of not being near her was unbearable. Two years of mutual pining (and many years before he knew that she knew) had left him on edge. 

The click of the deadbolt sliding through the door brought him immediately out of his spiral and a new nervousness seeped through his veins. He was rendered a statue as she turned back towards him, dropping the hood from her head as she walked. She kept her eyes on him as she unclasped the cloak, letting it fall to the floor. The dress she had worn was his favorite color on her, a deep emerald that made her eyes even more sharp than they normally were. The boning of her corset pushed up her chest so that it looked as though her breasts were trying to escape, the aforementioned neckline so low that Cassian wondered how she had managed to sneak out without a lecture from Mrs. Erso. He remained paralyzed by her approach until he was forced to look down at her, her skirts skimming his legs.

"I dream about you," Jyn whispered, and his breath caught.

"What?" his voice was barely there.

"I dream," she repeated, somehow coming nearer until he could feel the swell of her chest against his own, "about you. Is that okay?"

"Yes," his voice was as thick as the tension in the room and his hands seem to move on their own, coming to rest on her waist, her neck, "I dream about you too."

His forehead fell to meet hers, their heavy breaths mingling as their eyes closed. "I just didn't want to wait until-" Jyn began but he cut her off with his lips against hers.

Whatever self-restraint Cassian had felt in all their encounters before vanished as Jyn melted into him. He had dreamt of this very thing; what it would feel like, how she would taste, and a million other details that made him feel guilty upon waking in a cold sweat. That feeling disappeared now because Jyn's intonation had insinuated that the experience was mutual and as she pushed herself closer to his body with a whimper so there was no space left between, Cassian couldn't help but think that this, the real thing, was unlike even the most vivid dream.

He felt her chest rise up and down his own through his linen shirt as she pushed his overcoat out of the way, hands pressed hotly as they wrapped around and down his back. He remembered the scandalous lack of coverage and could not help but leave her lips to explore her neck and the tops of her breasts with a trail of hot kisses. She threw her head back and the motion caused her hip to slam violently into the workshop table. Cassian felt her scrabbling back and followed her lead, hoisting her hips to the counter surface, a toppled box of glass marbles spilling unceremoniously to the floor, as he met her lips once more. He heard her skirts rustle and slid his hands down her thighs to help push the layered crinoline and lace up. He pulled back briefly, a heavy breath escaping his lips as he felt to bare surface of her thigh. They were so close now, her legs wrapped firmly around his hips, her fingers roughly gripping the pulled out fabric of his shirt to bring him closer, two of their hands rudely entangled on top of one another on the counter's knotted surface. He pulled her face up to his again and again, his fingers tangling in the loose tendrils that framed her face and he was falling under her spell ever deeper.

Chime. Chime. Chime.

The loud chime of the clock followed swiftly by someone rudely trying to enter the latched door cut the mood of the room like a knife. Cassian stepped back as if burned although his hand remained entangled with Jyn's on the table. He looked down at her swollen lips, flushed cheeks, and curls all askew and he suddenly wanted to ignore all interruptions and red flags and continue to work at continuing on all of those things.

A pounding knock and Bodhi's worried voice echoed through the door. Cassian somehow managed a ,"Just a minute," as he continued to stare in Jyn's eyes. His eyes lingered on hers as she jumped from the table, adjusting her skirts, and reaffixing the hooded cloak that had fallen to the ground, covering the evidence of their activities. He somehow came back to himself enough to readjust his clothing, smooth out his hair, and wipe his hand on his face a few times before Jyn opened the door. "Oh hello, Bodhi! I was just on my way out!" Jyn's cheerful voice did not belie what they had just done.

Before she crossed the threshold, she turned once more to him, a wicked smirk on her lips as she licked them, and winked. Cassian felt as though he would melt into a puddle onto the floor and it took him far too long to acknowledge Bodhi's confused inquiries as to what had happened. Cassian honestly had no idea himself.

……………….

Jyn toyed with the etched crystal of the goblet in her hand, her eyes scanning the room, feigning observance of the party at large. Her true object of interest was across the dance floor, also pretending to be in deep conversation with Bodhi and her father, his eyes ever coming back to meet hers. Every time they did, she felt a deep flush and subconsciously sucked in her lower lip as she remembered their encounter from the few days previous (as well as not half an hour past hidden in the shadow of the owl grandfather clock). His heated gaze belied the fact that he was thinking of it too.

Ding. Ding. Ding.

The sound of silver on a crystal glass silenced the murmurs of many conversations. The uneven gait of her godfather echoed on the tile floor as he hobbled to the middle of the room. She caught Cassian's eye, raising an eyebrow as if to say, "What is he up to now?" but Cassian only had a shrug and a puzzled look of his own.

"My esteemed acquaintances, dear friends, and beloved family," Saw began, pausing between each grouping to take a deep wheezing breath, "I fear that this Christmas shall be my last."

A collective gasp swept the room as he continued, "Oh, do not be sad and you should not be surprised, being as I have been for so long." He moved his arm to display his haggard and hobbled appearance.

"I have an announcement! One that I think will bring joy and happiness to those I hold dearest," he turned to look Jyn directly in the eye, "I shall leave my estate, my grand house, immense fortune, and beloved workshop to my esteemed apprentice and colleague, Mr. Cassian Andor. I can think of no one who I entrust more with the things that I treasure the most."

A gasp went through the crowd and Jyn met Cassian's (very surprised and wide) eyes. He obviously had no idea. He looked at Saw who nodded and smiled as Cassian minutely bowed with a gaping mouth. He met Jyn's eye again and she couldn't help the wide, bittersweet smile that pulled at her cheeks.

In a lifetime of magical and heartfelt presents, this last was her godfather's best. The toy horses that moved like the real thing and life-size dolls that leapt and twirled like real ballerinas were fantastical and wonderful but her godfather had just made it possible for her and Cassian to be together with no social impediment whatsoever. He had gifted her a future with him. If that's what Cassian wanted, of course.

………………..

Jyn woke up with a gasp, her thin sleep shirt sliding down her shoulder to expose most of her collarbone. These strange, wonderful dreams still plagued her, a year later and she breathed out swiftly, eyes closing. A hand, warm and firm moved up between her shoulder blades and she smiled. Yes, she still had the dreams, but now she also had a better solution to dealing with them. She felt the bed shift and the scratch of Cassian's beard on the back of her neck as he lifted to sit next to her. His mouth followed a path up her neck and when he reached her jaw, she turned her head to meet his lips. His hand slid across her stomach to gently guide her hip up and around until she was straddling his already naked form. As his hands, rough from the detailed work that he created, slid the lace hem of her nightgown up her bare thighs, she couldn’t help but smile into his mouth and lift back to look down at him. 

Her husband was so beautiful, dark hair splayed out on the pillow underneath, eyes still sleepy but wholly focused on her. His hand pushed the hair back from her face as he gave her a curious quirk of his head and she dove back down to meet him and finish what they had started.

**Author's Note:**

> Cassian and Jyn living happily ever after in a possibly haunted, weird, giant, old house where Cassian just makes her all this cool shit forever and is good with his hands (ahem) is so comforting to me.
> 
> Like anything that I write, I have no idea whether this is trash or a weird ass concept that somehow works. I obviously hope it's the latter and that you have enjoyed it. :)


End file.
